Porcelain Dolls
by Flawless Beauti
Summary: Because we all fall down. Slash, spouse abuse, suicide.
1. Chapter 1

**[_Disclaimer: I do not own the characters used in this story, nor do I own the song.]_**

_I am not entirely back. Flawlessly Flawed is, at the moment, painful at best for me to work on so do not expect an update with that.  
I may post short stories as I write them, but I am making no promises on that either. The most you should expect from me is responses to reviews/PMs and I'll be getting on every so often to read stories._

_This is not edited, any mistakes are my own._

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**Porcelain Dolls**

_"No, please I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." The move was so sudden I didn't register it until I was staring up at the man I loved, clutching my bleeding eye in something remarkably close to bewilderment. "Sorry isn't good enough. Get out." He spun and began walking away, but he hadn't made it two steps before shaking hands were grasping at the bottom of his robes. "Please don't walk away from me. Please…please don't…" _

_A kick to the side of my cheek and my vision blurred. The sound of the front door opening and slamming shut spurred me into action once more as I stumbled, still half blind, to the door and slung it open once more. I weaved through the streets as fast as I could, looking through blurring vision that was either from rain or from tears. "Please…" I wouldn't stop searching._

**_I feel it every day; it's all the same  
It brings me down but I'm the one to blame  
I've tried everything to get away  
So here I go again  
Chasing you down again  
Why do I do this?_**

_The rain was cold and numbing, but he was grateful for it. It took away the pain in his throbbing left cheek; in his bleeding eyebrow. People stared as he walked by but he ignored them. Let them think what they would about one half of the 'Famous Couple', limping around in the rain with no charms around him, bruised and bleeding. His hair hung around his face as he stumbled over the cobbled stones that just a week ago had convinced him to buy the apartment._

_He slipped suddenly and hit the side of a nearby building, a gasp tearing itself out of his aching throat as his hand automatically found its way to his left side; as if by clutching the spot of pain he could magically make it go away. His name was being called, he realized belatedly. He turned his head turned the sound and managed a small smile at the worried frown on his friend's face. His mouth opened to send a greeting, and the pavement rushed to meet his face._

**_Over and over, over and over  
I fall for you  
Over and over, over and over  
I try not to_**

_Soft hands were wiping the blood away gently and he felt the familiar tingle of healing spells as he regained consciousness. He opened his eyes blearily and gave a small smile to the teary witch hovering over him. "Hey 'Mione." He managed finally as tears slid silently down her cheeks. Her mouth was moving but no sounds were coming out and he sat up slowly, recognizing the couch he had often ended up on lately._

_"She doesn't understand." A voice spoke before he could say anything. At these words the witch made a small gasping sound and latched onto his shoulder, shaking with repressed sobs. He turned to view the other man in the room who was watching the all too familiar scene, eyes sad. "She doesn't understand why it happens when you're so powerful a wizard. You both are, really."_

_Hermione shook harder at the words and Ron walked forward, prying her off her gently and sitting beside them. "We all knew what he'd been through, though we didn't know how much until after the war; when everybody was showing their true colors. But we never thought it messed him up this bad. You know this; you were there." He shook his head, mouth a hard line. They had never had this conversation and it wasn't going to start now._

_"You should leave. It's going to get worse." He scowled at the person he considered his friend. "I know you love him mate but…sometimes that isn't enough." His eyes narrowed. He thought they understood. "Just because we don't have a relationship like you two doesn't mean…" Ron interrupted, fatigue in his voice. "How many times has he hit you? How many times has this happened?"_

_"I'm tired from working all day and I come home to this? I thought we had an agreement?"  
"That isn't an excuse!"  
"I don't love you. I never loved you. You were just a plaything to me; a puppet. You're the marionette and I'm the puppeteer."  
"I'm so sorry baby. I didn't mean any of it. I love you. I love you so much and I don't deserve you."  
"You think you mean something to me? I fuck you and that's it!"  
"I didn't mean it. Oh god I never meant to hit you. I'm so sorry. I'm so…sor…sorry…"  
"It's alright baby; you didn't mean it and I deserved it anyway. I know the agreement and I know you work all day."  
A reassuring smile and a small, hesitant one in return and the conversation is over for the night._

**_It feels like everyday stays the same  
It's dragging me down and I can't pull away  
So here I go again  
Chasing you down again  
Why do I do this?_**

_The house was silent and dark when I got home and I mentally sighed; I should have known he wouldn't be back yet. I murmured a simple locking charm and glanced around the sitting room. Another quick spell and everything was back in its proper place. I walked through the other rooms, leaving the lights off until I reached our bedroom. The spilled blood was cleaned up in a second; another one had the bed sheets replaced. The bathroom light was the only one I turned on as I showered; the hot water hit my abused muscles and I winced, though whether from the pain or from the memories assaulting me I wasn't sure._

_I thought back to what they had said, Ron and Hermione, and I sighed. I knew they were right. He wasn't the same person we knew in school. He was so much worse, but I also knew it made no difference. I loved him and I would not leave. No matter how bad the beatings got I would stay. The realization made me dizzy and I slid down the wall, resting my head on my knees as sobs shook my body._

_Long after the water had went cold I got out. Soft white towel was rubbed half—heartedly over my torso and arms before settling on my waist. The mirror wasn't fogged, so I could see myself plainly and I almost winced. Hermione was no medi-witch that was for sure. My cheek was still bruised and swollen, and my eyebrow had been torn back open and was bleeding fresh from my crying spell. I reached for my wand but suddenly there were hands wrapping around my waist and I froze, staring into the mirror. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." The words were softly whispered in my ear and followed immediately by a soft trail of kisses down my neck._

_I swallowed the lump in my throat with difficulty and smiled as best I could. "I know." The invisible hands on my chest stroked aimlessly. "I don't deserve you. I'll change I swear I will." I nodded and my heart swelled with hope; just as it had done for the past two years he had promised this. I almost missed the whispered words but the change in my appearance was drastic enough for me to take note._

_My eyebrow was perfect once more; not a single mark as to suggest what had happened. My cheek too had been restored to its original shape and color, and the pain in both had vanished. My eyes drifted downward. The bruises and the cuts, the ones I hid from everyone, were gone. In place of all the injuries, he had appeared. His hands rested right over chest, causing me both to feel alarmed and safe. His chin rested on my shoulder and his nose nuzzled my neck lovingly. I wanted to believe that. I did. But the words I'd heard earlier repeated themselves in my head ['If you loved him you'd leave him. Show him he's hurting himself.' 'You don't deserve this.'] and I couldn't make them stop. I opened my mouth to say something but made the mistake of meeting his gaze in the mirror. "I love you baby."_

_His voice had dropped into the one he knew I could not resist, and my mouth shaped the words back before I could say a word. His eyes were shadowed, I noticed. I wondered if he felt the same pain I did. As if reading my mind he nodded and pulled me gently from the bathroom. Once again everything was alright in our household, and I would cherish it while I could. Because I knew in a few days, a few weeks if I was lucky, the anger would start back and it would be a cycle all over again. But for now I would be content –happy even- and tell myself just because we didn't have a fairytale romance didn't mean it wasn't perfect for us. I would tell myself any relationship we had would be dysfunctional. Because I was Draco Malfoy and he was Harry Potter, and just because it wasn't perfect didn't mean it wasn't love._

_Or at least, that's what I'd tell myself._

**_So many thoughts that I can't get out of my head  
I try to live without you, every time I do I feel dead  
I know what's best for me  
But I want you instead  
I'll keep on wasting all my time_**

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	2. Paper Butterflies

**Paper Butterflies**

The crisp white paper felt good beneath my fingers; soft as silk but with the potential to cut as deep as any knife. For a moment the white paper flashed green and it fell from my suddenly trembling hands. I took a deep breath and picked it back up and continued folding. Another paper butterfly joined my collection in the glass jar by my side. I took a moment to pick it up and look at it. It was a gallon jar; a simple Muggle thing but something I found fascinating. It was filled halfway with the butterflies of different colors. I ignored the fact that there was no green in the jar. No green and no red. I just kept forgetting to get the paper.

I sat it back at my feet, suddenly queasy and began folding another piece of paper. It was a very relaxing rhythm, I thought to myself as I folded. You could get lost in the simplicity of making paper butterflies. Just fold and fold and fold until your life had passed you by and you didn't even notice. I wondered then if that would be a bad thing. If I folded them until I had jars upon jars of them; if I folded until I was old and senile.

The clock chimed six and I folded my last one of the evening, placing it in the glass contraception and sealing it tight. A whispered spell and they all begin fluttering weakly against one another, causing my to smile at the foolishness. I picked it up and carried it to the pantry and placed it on the last shelf, beside the other ones. All my beautiful paper butterflies, all in a line. One for every minute of every day I had nothing to do.

Some had splotches of red decorating them; others were torn or wrinkled. I shut the door and went to finish dinner, leaving my beautiful butterflies [_'You should consider selling them. They're beautiful and such pretty things shouldn't be kept in cupboards.'_] in the dark in the pantry, because Pansy was wrong when she said that; some things should be kept locked away. Kind of like me.

Like me and my pretty paper butterflies.


	3. Precious Memories

**Precious Memories**

_The soup is bubbling on the stove and the vegetables are simmering in their respective dishes. I open the oven to check on the dessert and hear an amused chuckle from behind me. "It's going to taste fantastic love." I don't dignify his remark with a response and I hear him heave an amused sigh. I turn, reaching into the cabinet as I decide to add a dash more garlic and feel his hand grab my wrist and whirl me around. I spare a glare and struggle. _

_"It's going to burn!" I mutter, twisting in his grasp. He shakes his head and pulls me flush against him, pecking my face softly until I quit trying to escape. He smiles down at me and I give a scowl back, causing him to laugh. "They're going to love it now quit worrying." Before I can give a sarcastic remark he's kissing me, his tongue slipping past my lips and teasing my own. He pulls away and I follow him without a thought. He spares a moment to grin before kissing me back. _

_My hands are running under his shirt and then it's gone as he bites the sensitive part of my neck and I moan his name. I'm slammed on the dining room table and somehow our clothes are shed in record time and he takes a few crucial seconds to stretch me and whisper the all important spell and he's slipping in and then he's slamming and all thoughts of everything fly out of my head. It's hard and it's quick and I'm both exhausted and satisfied when it's over. _

_He strokes my cheek softly and leans down until his forehead is against mine. "I love you." I blush and look away, muttering the sentiment back. _

_In fifteen minutes we are standing by the door as our families walk into our flat, the food on the table and ourselves freshly showered. We spare a smirk as they sit down at the table. I walk beside him and his hands slip to my waist. "You are my world; my fallen angel." He murmurs in my ear, and I can't help but give a fond smile to him as he moves to take his place at the table._

My hands shake and tears run down my face as I finish dabbing ointment on my sprained wrist, but I smile slightly.

It's so much easier when you remember the good with the bad.


	4. Painted on Smiles

**Painted on Smiles**

_2000_  
Harry looked stunning in his black and green trimmed robes. They swirled around him as he danced with yet another woman. He twirled around the floor, a perfectly fake smile on his face and his head cocked in the perfect imitation of interest. I laughed and shook my head, nodding my head towards him and rolling my eyes.

He looked completely miserable to those who knew him. I excused myself and glided to his side, tapping the woman on the shoulder and excusing her without another thought. His face lit up, a real smile on his face as he pulled my flush against his chest and we twirled with the music.

_2001_  
Nothing much had changed in a year. Harry still looked gorgeous in his dress robes and he still danced with random women and listened to their chatter with a perfectly fake smile. "Draco?" I turned to see Pansy standing beside me, looking nervous. "Are you happy?" She asked when I raised an eyebrow. I smiled and nodded, and she looked relieved as she hugged me and walked away. "I'm glad." My reflection caught my eye as she moved and revealed the mirror and my heart froze at my expression.

I always thought it was only Harry with the painted on smiles.


	5. Pale Moon

**Pale Moon**

The robe slipped from his shoulders for the first time that day, revealing the multitude of contusions and scars. His once perfect body was now a canvas of abuse, and every mark was glaringly obvious under the light of the full moon. It's why he usually stayed indoors during such times. The night was not his friend. But tonight was different.

The stone walkway began at their back door and wound through the gardens. He began to follow it now, his naked body lithe even in its current state. A shaking hand brushed each flower as he passed by, pausing now and again to take a deep breath of the scented night air. Harry hadn't been happy when he requested this, but he had given in eventually.

Draco paused at the gazebo close to the end of the path and, after a moments hesitation, went inside. He sat on the bench, the wood cold against his naked skin, and sighed heavily. He slumped forward, his body seeming to cave into itself. He stayed that way for several minute as tears hit his knees soundlessly. When he was done thinking -_remembering_- he stood and finished his journey.

The water at the edge was nothing spectacular, surrounded by the same gray stones that made up the walkway and only just large enough to swim in. But it was Draco's place of refuge. He came here often, usually during the day, and would sit and stare at the water for hours at a time. He did that now, folding himself into a kneeling position and watching the calm water. Here was the only place he felt safe; serene; sane.

After only a few moments he stood, and stepped down into the water. The smallest of hisses left his lips as the water swirled around his cut up calves but he didn't pause until he was waist deep. His hands were held out at his sides, palms resting gently on the water and causing ripples as they shook. It was here he finally allowed himself to remember.

_When the war had first started Draco had ignored it. He had no desire to choose either side, and while his Father wasn't thrilled neither was he ashamed. It was a win-win situation. That had changed when Death Eaters had attacked a village he and his mother were staying in, and he had first seem Potter truly fight. He told his mother then and there he was choosing a side and he had followed them back to Hogwarts and joined the next day. _

_None were exactly thrilled, especially when he became known his only reason for joining was because he knew it was the winning side. But he proved useful and knowledgeable, and so he stayed. And overtime, he made friends with the important members. _

_He wouldn't say he was surprised when he ended up dating Harry Potter. Draco was drawn to power and wealth; he had both, with looks to boot. He wouldn't say he was surprised when they got married and nobody was happy, or when the papers spectulated it was a plot to get his money. They were mostly right, anyway. He was disowned now; he certainly needed it. But Draco was honestly shocked when, after a mere six months of marriage, he realized he was falling in love with the boy he had been planning on using. _

_And that was when all the secrets came out. Harry was less than thrilled when he realized how gulliable he had been, but after the intitial fight things went back to realitve normalacy. And Draco was happy living in his fairy tale for another four months until Harry killed the Dark Lord. Then his life became a nightmare, and he had no way to stop it._

_He wasn't the same after that, his Harry. His temper was more fierce than before and his attitude darker. Draco willed away the obvious signs and said nothing, even when Harry began pushing away his friends and lashing out at Draco over trivial things. He said nothing the first time Harry shoved him into a wall, and nothing again that night when he apologized and sobbed on Draco's dislocated shoulder. Because no matter how he had changed he was still the man Draco loved, and that was more important than anything. _

_When his friends began to notice the marks he took better care to hide them. When asked he would smile and lie through his teeth. But he was happy, he thought one day as he lay at the bottom of the stairs after being pushed down them. Even when he was miserable and being hit, he would rather be hit by Harry than go to anyone else and be loved. That was also the day he realized he was truly doomed._

The water was more violent now as his hands jerked with the memories he had tried so hard to forget. But he needed them now. He sobbed dryly, out of tears, and his body shook upon the mental assault.

_There were twenty-five jars, Draco thought quietly to himself. Each full of struggling butterflies, fighting against an unstoppable force to get free. Draco smiled wryly. Even after seven years they didn't understand there was no escape. At least not that they could get on their own. With a small sigh he opened the first lid and let the paper fly out. They fluttered in the sunlight for the briefest of seconds before zooming off. It was like this with every jar. _

_Draco watched until the last one vanished, hoping they enjoyed their life before it was cut short. The next day, when it rained, Harry hadn't understood why Draco cried. And the week later he didn't understand when it happened again at the sight of a paper butterfly flying lazily past their window._

_When he took out the paper next, it was with shaking hands and almost seven weeks later. His quill looped perfectly over every letter on every piece of paper until he had four in all. He read and re-read each one before finally sending them off to the people who would be receiving them. He glanced at the darkness outside. He didn't have long._

No, Draco thought to himself. He didn't have long indeed. He wondered what their faces would be like when they finally opened the letters. Hermione at her home with her new child; Ron at work wishing he was there. Pansy at the office she managed. And Harry. Harry, at the office or out on a case. He thought perhaps Hermione would cry harshly and call Ron. Ron would turn white he knew, and rush over regardless of the consequences. Pansy would likely crumble, face blank and knuckles white. He wasn't sure what Harry would do; how he'd react.

He hadn't been sure of Harry in a long time. Seven years and four months. But he wouldn't think of that now. He had known eventually something like this would happen. He thought, in a way, they all had. Everyone had just been waiting for him to break and finally he had. He walked slowly, fighting against the water, to the center where he knew it dropped off. He took a final step and bobbed uncertainly on the water before he went under.

Draco had never learned to swim.


End file.
